“I was just thinking—Oh, nothing!”
Sheila was dismayed at the idea of leaving Eldon, leaving him all by himself—no, not by himself, for that Dulcie creature would replace her in the company, and perhaps—no doubt—in his lonely heart. Sheila had grown ever so fond of Eldon, but she could not expect any man, least of all so handsome, so big-hearted a man, to resist the wiles of a cat, or, worse, a kitten, who would select such a name as “Dulcie.”
An inspiration gave Sheila sudden cheer. She would ask dear Mr. Reben to give Eldon a chance in the new company. It would be far better for Floyd to “create” something than to continue hammering at his present second-hand rôle. He might have to take a smallish part, but they would be in each other’s neighborhood, and perhaps the star might fall ill. Eldon would step in; he would make an enormous sensation; and then and thus in a few short months they would have accomplished their dream—they would be revolving as twin stars in the high sky together.
She called up Reben at the theater; he had gone to the hotel. At the hotel, he had left for the station. At the station, he had taken the train. Well, she would write to him or, better yet, see him in person and arrange it the minute she reached New York.
That night she took her contract to the theater in her hand-bag. She must tell Floyd about it.
He was loitering outside when she reached the stage door. Her face was agleam with joy as she beckoned him under a light in the corridor. His face was agleam, too, as he hurried forward. Before she could whisk out her contract he brandished before her one of his own. Before she could say, “See what I have!” he was murmuring: “Sheila! Sheila! What do you suppose? Reben—the great Reben likes my work. He said he thought I was worth keeping, but I ought to be playing the juvenile lead instead of a second old man. He’s going to shift Eric Folwell to a new production East, and he offered me his place! Think of it! Of course I grabbed it. I’m to replace Folwell as soon as I can get up in the part. Would you believe it—Reben gave me a contract for three years. He’s boosted me to fifty a week already. I’m to play this part all season through to the Coast. And next season he’ll give me a better part in something else—and at a better salary.
“I wanted to telephone you about it, but I was afraid to mention it to you for fear something might prevent him from signing. But he did!—just before he took the train. See, there’s his own great name! After next week I’m to be your lover in the play as well as in reality. Our dream is coming true already, isn’t it—” He hesitated before the absolute word, then, having made the plunge, went on and whispered, “Sheila mine!”
Sheila stared at him, at the love and triumph in his eyes; and suddenly her cake was dough. Her mouth twisted like a child’s when the rain begins on a holiday. She turned her head away and passed the side of her hand childishly across her clenched eyes, whence the tears came thronging. She half murmured, half wept:
“I’m not your Sheila. I’m that hateful old Reben’s slave. And I don’t go any further with you. Miss—Dulcie Somebody-or-other is to have my part. She’s prettier than I am. And I’ve got to go to New York next week to begin rehearsals of—a horrid old B-british success.”